


In the House of Flies

by Slashy Goodness (allmadhere)



Series: Kink Bingo [6]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Bloodplay, Community: kink_bingo, Kink, M/M, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-23
Updated: 2010-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmadhere/pseuds/Slashy%20Goodness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he awakes, it's early evening and Patrick's stirring in his arms. Pete acts before he can even think, rolling himself on top of Patrick and pinning him flat. His fangs are out before he can makes them stop and not snarl. Patrick's fully awake in seconds and snarling back at him, fangs bared, for a few seconds before it slides off his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the House of Flies

Pete's thrown into a new cell in the middle of the day. The sunlight sears and burns against his skin, dragging him out of his forced sleep. The jolt as he hits the concrete of the floor hard wakes him the rest of the way. The guards are gone before he even manages to shove himself up from the ground. It takes a few slow blinks to register the lump in the center of the room, more to recognize it. Patrick still has his hat and jacket but he's huddled and turned away from Pete and the door. There's no rise and fall of his breathing and Pete's heart breaks. He crawls to Patrick's side and curls himself around the cold body, drifting back into the sleep dragging him down.

When he awakes, it's early evening and Patrick's stirring in his arms. Pete acts before he can even think, rolling himself on top of Patrick and pinning him flat. His fangs are out before he can makes them stop and not snarl. Patrick's fully awake in seconds and snarling back at him, fangs bared, for a few seconds before it slides off his face.

"Pete?" Patrick stops struggling and Pete lets some of the tension drain from his body before tensing again. Beckett, that fucker.

"Shut up," he hisses, and Patrick looks so hurt he has to squeeze his eyes shut. "You're mine, it was supposed to be me if this ever had to happen and he--" Pete cuts himself off with a growl and his eyes fly open, dark and swimming with red. "Maybe I can still make it right," he whispers as he brings Patrick's hand to his chest.

"Pete, what are you--" Patrick gasps as Pete bites hard into his right wrist. There's pain and resistance but it quickly bleeds away into a haze of swimming pleasure. It's so much better than it was with Beckett, less rending and ripping at the very core of his being. It doesn't hurt and Patrick sighs in relief. Pete would never try to hurt him.

The blood flowing into Pete's mouth is far more sluggish and sweet than he knows it should be and there's a soul-deep urge to stop, something telling him this is wrong. It's easy enough to shrug it away since he's been doing it for years. He pulls away from Patrick's wrist gasping, blood sliding down his chin. He's harder than he's ever been before and his cock pushes almost painfully at the zipper of his jeans. He looks down at Patrick's wrist, the skin already knitting itself back together and the blood coagulating, then at his face. His brighter-than-normal eyes are so dilated, he'd probably never know what color they are if he hadn't spent months on top of months memorizing them.

Patrick pulls his hand free of Pete's lax grip and yanks him down into a crushing kiss. It's more like some sexualized form of jousting than a kiss, Patrick's tongue is trying to gather every taste of himself from Pete's mouth. Patrick's leg wraps around him and pulls him close, grinding their hips together, and he's at least as hard as Pete. They both hiss in pleasure and Patrick kisses harder, forcing his way off the floor to straddle Pete. He leans back and Pete's breath catches at the sight. Patrick's normally pink lips are blotted with dark red and his skin is even paler than normal, making the red all the more stark. The outline of his dick twitches in his tight, dirty jeans.

"Your turn," Patrick whispers as his fangs slip out slowly. He leans down like he has all the time in the world. Pete's eyes slide closed as Patrick nuzzles at his neck, fangs grazing lightly over the skin and followed by tongue. Suddenly, Patrick bites down, piercing just below his ear, and Pete's world goes hazy and fades into white. When he was turned, when Beckett did this, the haze had been red. With Patrick, though, it was infinitely blissful. He knows, through some strange and disconnected sense of touch, that their hips are rocking slowly together and he lets out a whimper. Patrick pulls off, licking at his lips, and Pete forces himself up for a kiss. He can feel his neck repair itself, the skin tender as the blood dries over it, and he can taste a heady mix of himself and Patrick as their tongues entangle themselves.

Patrick's groaning and forcing a hand between them to twitch open Pete's jeans and Pete lets him with a sigh of relief. Patrick growls when he sees that Pete decided to forgo underwear. His hand is cold and makes Pete shiver but it's still Patrick, with all the calluses and scars he knows, pushing under his shirt and trailing over his stomach. Pete's head hits the concrete hard and his hips lift on their own as Patrick tugs down his jeans.

"I want to try something," Patrick mumbles and that's all the warning Pete has before too cold lips wrap around him and a tongue flicks over the slit. Patrick's far too turned on now to keep his fangs back and every slide in the just-too-narrow space between leaves a thin cut that quickly heals over and over. The feeling doesn't let him draw it out but Patrick swallows like a pro. He pulls back, eyes shut tightly, and licks at the pink-white swirled dribble at the corner of his mouth.

Pete moves before he's really ready, his limbs shaky and protesting as he shoves Patrick hard to the ground. His hand fights its way into his jeans while he attacks Patrick's swollen lips again, trying to eat him from the inside out. Patrick lasts for even less time than Pete, coming with a broken shout that echoes and reminds them where they are. They sag against each other, breathing deeply like they still need to for long minutes. It slowly evens out until neither is breathing at all.

"We need to get out," Patrick mumbles, pressing himself as close to Pete as he can. "I don't know why he put you in here but--." He shudders and Pete's fingers dig into his flesh like they might never let go. They drift into a fitful sleep until the sun steals all consciousness away.

The next night, he awakes back in the cell he'd started in with Patrick's hat and he howls with rage.


End file.
